Even Angels Fall
by AnitaB
Summary: Post "Shorties in Love" Logan and Max shippiness and romance.My first DA story so r/r please.


Even Angels Fall

Title: Even Angels Fall

Author: AnitaB

Rating: PG 13 for mild language and other stuff

Spoilers: Everything up to and including "Shorties in Love", episodes that come to mind include "BBWW", "Rising" , "Art Attack".

Disclaimers: I do not own "Dark Angel" and am insanely jealous of those who do, namely Cameron/Eglee and Fox networks. Don't sue me I am too poor to be worth the lawyer fees.

Even Angels Fall

By AnitaB

"Max, hey Max."

"Yeah Cindy, What?"

Original Cindy waited until Max appeared in the bathroom door, wrapped in a towel, then she lifted the single sheet of paper that had fallen from Max's pocket to the floor.

"Boo? What's this?" Original Cindy said, fingering the torn edge of the paper. Max reached for it, her face softening at the memory of the poem. Trailing her fingers down the letters and smiling slightly she looked up at Cindy.

"Oh, it's something Logan wrote."

"Logan wrote this.." Max nodded, not looking Cindy in the face. "Logan wrote this bout you" Max's face colored and she looked at the ground, but she nodded a little reluctantly.

At Cindy's sudden burst of laughter, Max's head jerked up and her eyes locked on Cindy's. 

"Does this mean you and Rollerboy are finally gonna get together?" Cindy raised her hand as Max started to protest. "Don't you even say we aren't like that'. I read this poem and you _are_ like that." Cindy settled back into her chair smiling widely. "Logan is so all about you, and I'm sure you're all about him, too. Are you gonna do somethin' about it?"

"I don't know"

"You don't know! You don't know? Why wouldn't you do somethin' about it?" Cindy glared to shut Max up. "He knows about all your secret manticore stuff so your female fog-bank syndrome aint gonna be a prob. I seen the way you look at him—for that matter you practically melted just lookin' at that poem he wrote you—so you feel somethin' for him. Lookin' at that poem, he feels somethin' for you." Cindy grinned, "So you gonna test if that wheelchair of his is gonna keep you two from" She didn't say it, just smile even wider.

Max fidgeted, pacing with one hand clenched in her towel the other gently folded around the poem. At her continued silence, Cindy proded, "Well, ya gonna speak, or should I guess."

"Cindy!" Max flopped onto the couch—her towel miraculously staying in place. "What if it didn't work out? It would ruin everything—our friendship, eyes only. What if I have to leave—what it manticore hunts me down. It would destroy Logan if I got caught cause I stayed here with him. It would destroy me if Lydecker hurt or killed Logan to get to me." Max closely examined her already chipping manicure. "It would never work out. I won't risk hurting him." Her voice dropped several decibels, "He means too much to me to ever hurt him."

Cindy's breath caught in her throat at the emotion glittering in Max's eyes. "You're really falling for him."

"No, I won't fall, I can't." Max threw herself off the couch only half-hearing Cindy's protest. "No, Cindy, I can't fall—and that's that."

As Max fled the room, Cindy watched the poem float back down to the couch cushion. Picking it up and reading it again, Cindy murmured "think what you want, Boo, but that ain't that and this ain't over."

***

"Max, package to 925 VirginiaBip Bip Bip."

Rolling her eyes, Max shut her locker and left without replying—mustn't encourage Normal. Pedaling quickly towards Virginia street—exercise was always calming but today her emotions weren't obeying always. She couldn't stop thinking about Logan. The feel of him leaning back against her, the sound of his voice saying "way more", the touch of his lips on hers so long ago at the cabin, the pain in his face at "Just go". Dozens of images of him, of them together paraded through her mind. Every risk they had taken for each other, Every smile shared. Every concerned touch. Every sarcastic word exchanged, even their arguments rang in her ears. How could she live without that nearly daily contact with him.

Having delivered her package on autopilot, she turned back towards Jampony when her beeper screamed, almost shocking her into a collision. Her reflexes hit the brakes and the bike stopped milimeters from a light pole. Glancing at her pager, her heart leapt and her nerves tightened. It was Logan.

***

He set down the phone and rolled to look out the window. _I wonder if she'll come over_. After beating himself up for a while last night for showing her that poem he finally picked up the book and found the page missing. Now his heart was torn in two—half rejoicing, half scared to death. It would kill him to lose her and that's what could happen if he messed this up. He knew that poem had reached her, touched her, her face had had that same expression when she'd cried at his cousin's wedding. The real question was which emotion would win, Max's affection or her fear. Every time she finally came close to him—after they had kissed at the cabin, when he'd stood in front of her—each time he'd felt her pull back emotionally, usually followed by "Gotta bounce" and a hasty retreat. If he scared her too badly, maybe that retreat would be permanent. _I can't let her go, I need her._

Fittingly to his mood, rain began to sheet the windows of the high-rise apartment.

***

__

He paged me, why? Max slid her pager back onto her belt. _It could be an eyes only job, or maybe it about the poem. Maybe he noticed it's gone. If it's work related, I don't wanna clue him in by acting strange._ While slowly walking her bike to the nearest payphone she decided to take the coward's way._ I'll call him to see what he wants to see me for._

Sliding change into the phone Max forcibly shoved her nerves down—trying to slow her pulse, unsuccessfully.

"Hello,"

"Hey Logan, it's me. You paged me?" Trying to sound like she always did, her voice still shook slightly. Logan, of course, noticed it and took advantage of the situation. He loved it when she let him take care of her and today was no exception.

"Are you feeling alright? You sound a little shaky. You know I can always round you up some milk and tryptophan. Wanna come over after work?"

Max froze—caught between the desire to see him and let him fuss over her and the fear of everything changing. He hadn't mentioned the missing poem, maybe he hadn't noticed and she could act like it never happened. _If I see him, can I be cool? Can I act normal?_ She bit her lower lip, indecisive.

"Max? You okay? Still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I'll stop by after work, ok?"

"Great, I'll make us up a little something to eat and see you at six." The sound of his voice and the smile in it loosened Max's nerves a touch. She smiled back.

"Right, see you at six."

***

Logan set the phone back on its cradle. _She's coming over. I'll see her tonight. Maybe she'll be wearing that soft red sweater._ Logan shook the image (however gorgeous) away and rolled into the kitchen to start cooking. _This thing between us isn't just physical, I care about her too much to let my hormones make the decisions._ He smiled, remembering each time she'd kick-started his hormones—the kiss at the cabin, the dress she wore to his cousin's wedding, the frightened hug when he almost shot himself, her body against his when she followed him off the roof, her lips a breath away from his the first time he stood up for her, the sight of her wandering his apartment in nothing but a towel, that tight black catsuit she wore when she broke into his life. Each picture of his beautiful Max was imprinted on his brain, she was a part of him now. 

Logan checked his watch, 4 o'clock, 2 hours to get ready. After getting dinner in the oven to cook (and double checking that the oven was on), Logan went into the bedroom to change clothes--based on Max's reaction he looked good in black. He'd use to his advantage. He wanted this night to bring her closer to him and physical attraction was just as important a tactic as emotional ties.

5:30 pm, Logan was dressed in slacks, a black button-down shirt and purposely unshaved 5o'clock shado. Dinner was almost ready, the table was set, and Logan had chosen a few favorite cds--including Sibilius--to put on the stereo.

That piece of music--Sibilius--meant a lot to him. He and Max had danced to that musich in the dream they shared while she bled life into his body. She was literally under his skin, running through his veins, and that's where he wanted to keep her. Besides, that shared dream had shown Logan just how much she cared for him. She had risked her life and her freedom to come back to him when Lydecker was hunting for her. Logan would never forget what she'd risked for him, what they'd both risked for each other, how they belonged together. _Someday I'll have to thank Lydecker for Max._

With everything ready, Logan sat near the window to wait for Max. Tonight, everything could change.

***

Max set the phone down, dinner at six. Two hours from now, she'd see Logan. With those deep, thoughtful eyes staring straight into her, those strong, gentle hands stroking her hair and face while she was seizing. Those hard, strong arms had held her but never for long enough. Those soft lips pressed to her own. Her heart sped up at the memory of dancing in his arms, pressed against him, his face so close to hers. Even though it was only a dream, she treasured the feel of him so close. She shook the memory away. _Two hours, I still have to finish work, and get ready. What am I gonna wear?_ Max laughed at the very feminine thought and climbed on the bike. She lifted her face to the light rain and mechanically rode back to Jampony.

She turned in her signature sheet to Normal and skipped out early. Walking into her apartment to clean up, Max stopped short at the sight of Original Cindy sitting in the middle of the couch grinning.

"I knew it. You're skipping work to go see Logan. What you two doing tonight?" Cindy's eyes clearly told what her vote was--the big step.

"Not that," Max threw her jacket on the kitchen counter. "We're having dinner, that's all." 

__

Denial, Max-girl, you in denial. But Cindy knew Max wouldn't believe until Logan convinced her. "So what you gonna wear, Boo?"

"I don't know, but I gotta hurry up and change." Max headed for her room with Cindy trailing behind. 

"Wear that fuzzy red sweater, it's very pettable."

__

Pettable's good. Max shook the thought away.

"Cindy! It's just dinner!" _Just dinner with Logan, My Logan._ Max started at the internal voice, _My Logan? What's wrong with me? It wouldn't work._ She pulled the sweater over her head, smoothing the red fuzz over her stomach. _I hope he's wearing black._

***

Logan turned at the sound of his front door opening. _God, she's beautiful._ His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Max standing in his doorway. She was wearing that soft, red sweater and tight black pants. Her hair was swept up into a clip with a few tendrils falling around her face and neck. Her eyes locked a his before flicking down his body almost too fast to see. He smiled, so happy to see her, to know he affected her almost as much as she affected him.

"Hey, Max. Hungry?"

As Logan rolled towards her, Max marveled as the strength in his arms and shoulders. She wanted to feel those arms around her. Pulling her eyes from his with difficulty, she nervously bit her lip. Logan almost groaned, remembering the feel of those full, sweet lips against his own.

"Have I ever turned down one of you culinary miracles?" Max smiled, walking over to where a bottle of nice, pre-pulse wine sat on the kitchen counter.

Logan's eyes involutarily followed the sway of her hips as she crossed the room. His hands itched to touch her so he clamped them to the wheels of his chair to control them.

Max poured them each a glass of wine and handed one to Logan. Her fingers brushing his sent a shock through both their bodies. _He's so close, so warm. No, Max, get it together girl, you're not going there._ Max pulled her hand from his, raised her glass to her lips, and downed half the wine at once.

__

She's so cute when she's nervous. Logan smiled and motioned her to sit at the table. "I'll get dinner." Max stood suddenly, "Let me help."

They both settled in to eat. Max dug in eagerly, not even nerves could make her turn down Logan's cooking. Suddenly realizing that the music in her head was also in the room, Max looked up and involuntarily said, "Sibilius."

"Yes, it's one of my favorite pieces," Logan stared straight into Max's eyes, "It's perfect for a waltz." Watching her blush lightly and duck her head.

"I wouldn't know, Manticore didn't include ballroom dancing in its soldier training program."

"Yeah, I can see how someone like Lydecker would ignore the arts in education." Logan laughed as the sudden mental picture formed of Lydecker leading a group of young X-5s in a bouncy fox-trot. Pulling away from the image, Logan noticed the question in Max's eyes. "I just imagined Manticore fox-trot 101, Lydecker can't dance." Logan watched Max's face fall at the name of her own private antichrist and the other x-5s.

Without thinking, Logan reached across the table and caught her hand in his. "Max, dance with me." He looked almost as shocked as Max did at his words. But the idea of getting her into his arms was too appealing to take it back.

"What?" Max pulled her fingers out of his clasp, her skin already missing his warmth. She watched, frozen as Logan moved around the table, closer to her by the second.

"I meant it Max, dance with me." Logan gazed into her eyes, placing a hand on her cheek. Max couldn't help closing her eyes and leaning into the heat of his palm. Her hand covered his and her eyes opened.

"Why?"

This was the hard question. If he scared her with too much emotion in his answer, she would leave. If he didn't put enough of himself into the answer, she would think he didn't care.

"Every woman deserves a slow dance now and then,and" He paused, then forced himself to go on, "and no sane man would miss the chance to get his arms around you." Max searched his face and couldn't miss the real answer. He wanted her in his arms as much as she wanted to be there. Telling herself friends danced all the time, Max moved into Logan's open arms.

Resting a hip in his lap, she curled her bare feet under herself and her arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close against his chest. He buried his face against her hair and whispered in her ear, "Thank you, Max."

She raised her face to look in his eyes, "No, Thank you, Logan, for my first dance." She smiled, enjoying his closeness while still scared. He smiled into her eyes, running his fingers down her cheek. Then he unwrapped his arms from her slim form and wheeled them both to the empty floor and began a slow dance. Missing the warmth of his arms around her, Max curled herself even closer to his chest. She leaned her face against the rapid pulse in his neck, breathing in his scent and feeling his breath against her hair. The strength in his arms as he moved them both surprised her and she reveled in it, trailing her hands across his shoulhers.

This closeness felt so right to both of them, like the missing piece of each one's soul was finally there, beating in the other's chest. And while both Max and Logan were aware of his hardness pressed against her thight--she was sitting in his lap after all--the emotional closeness mattered more right now.

The music stopped and Logan's arms encircled Max. One hand buried itself in her hair. The other rubbed up and down her back, brushing his thumb against her barcode. Her arms tightened around his neck. She lifted her head and their eyes met, searching for and easily finding the emotion glowing in each other's eyes.

As Max lost herself in Logan's eyes, the cd changed and a woman's voice started singing. Held securely in Logan's arms, Max could feel herself falling. Logan rubbed his thumb against her lips, "Max?"

She nearly cried as the sound of her name combined with the love shining in his eyes. Max leaned even closer until she could feel his breath against her mouth. "I have something to tell you, Logan."

"You can tell me anything, Max, you know that." He nuzzled his lips against her cheek before looking in her eyes.

"I stole the poem you wrote about me."

"I noticed, you have no idea what it meant to me that those words meant so much to you."

"There's more," Max tucked her head under his chin so he couldn't see her eyes. "Cindy read it and said you were in love with me. I've never been so happy or so scared in my life." Logan's eyes clenched shut at her words. _It made her happy._

"Cindy was right. Are you happy or scared?" The emotion he was feeling cracked his voice.

"Both," Max whispered, leaning close to his lips, "but happy is winning." Then her lips touched his, and an electric shock moved through them both. His arms tightened around her, his hand fisted in her hair. Her hand clutched his head, pulling him even deeper into the kiss.

__

Magic, there's pure magic in her touch.

Electric, his touch is electric.

The song in the background cycled into the chorus, the words sinking slowly into Max's mind.

"You will fly and you will crawl

God knows even angels fall."

She pressed closer to Logan only to feel him groan low in his chest and pull her even closer--if that was possible. Suddenly, he pulled back out of the kiss and rubbed his thumb against her lips. Staring into her eyes, he pleaded, "Tell me, Max, please tell me how you feel." She knew the word he was looking for and wasn't too scared to say it.

"I love you, Logan." His arms clenched around her so tight she could barely breathe, _Thank God._

"I love you, Max. I love you so much." His lips reached for hers and now she couldn't breathe. As their lips devoured each other, the small piece of Max's brain that was still thinking coherently about anything except Logan laughed, _Whatta ya know, Cindy was right. I am falling._

"You will fly and you will crawl

God knows even angels fall."

The End


End file.
